


A Couple of Clowns

by Dawnwind



Category: Starsky and Hutch - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-06
Updated: 2011-04-06
Packaged: 2017-10-17 16:05:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/178558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dawnwind/pseuds/Dawnwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drinking beers after class at the police academy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Couple of Clowns

The bar was, by Ken's standards, shabby, dirty and not in the best neighborhood—and he decided he very much liked it very much because of that. Less likely that his wife could track him down, or anyone else he'd known once upon a time. Not that many of them were in Bay City, but still…he was going to be a cop now. And this was a cop hangout.

There were blue uniforms everywhere, and Ken Hutchinson itched to wear one. He had three more months of the police academy and then he's be out on the streets, helping people, making a difference. It was exciting and more than a bit scary. Luckily, after a rough first day where he was sure that he'd made a huge mistake and was ready to drop out, he'd made some friends—good friends—and gotten good grades. He was currently at the top of the class.

"Sorry, guys." Cadet John Colby drained his beer and stood. "I got plans—" He gave a lewd grin and thrust his pelvis forward. "If you know what I mean."

"Don't have to write it out in neon, Johnny-boy." Dave Starsky laughed. "She better not expect a fifty on the bedside table or you'll be in big shit with the sergeant."

"Starsky, I only know ladies of a certain class." John waved and hurried out of the Blue Line.

"He stiffed us again," Starsky said. "That's the third time. We oughta go drinking without him or we'll be in the poorhouse."

"I can manage to pay for a few extra drinks," Ken said quietly. The last thing he wanted Starsky to know was the size of the bank account he had in the Duluth branch of the Minnesota Bank. Another reason why he liked the anonymity of Bay City, and this bar in particular.

"You must have had a good paying job right before the academy," Starsky said, fishing the last of the pretzels out of the bowl. "I make what I can driving a hack on weekends but it doesn't pay all the bills."

 _He could help Starsky if…_ He was not going to reveal what he considered the albatross this early in the game. He'd just gotten to know Starsky and wanted the guy as a friend, not someone who looked at him for money. He'd already known too many so called friends like that back home. He liked Starsky, which surprised him because they had nothing in common.

Starsky was quirky, irreverent, funny, opinionated, occasionally crass, and aggressive in training. He possessed a child-like love of life that Hutch often wished he could emulate.

"Luckily…" Starsky crunched on a pretzel. "I do have something…which makes a bundle in only a short time."

"Starsky," Hutch started, flashing on all sorts of very illegal endeavors. "You just warned Colby about using ladies of the night. What are you be…?"

Starsky stared at him with an open mouth that showed unchewed pretzel and then guffawed, swallowing too fast. He started to choke and sputtered crumbs on the table. "Oops!" Starsky gasped, hastily scrubbing the table top with the damp napkin from under his beer stein. "You think I'd jeopardize this great career before I got it? Nah." He shrugged an apology as the waitress came over and surveyed the mess he had made.

"Can't take you anywhere, huh, Dave?" Penelope sighed. "You want another round?"

"Penny, you're worth a quarter, if not more. Is Huggy here tonight?" Starsky asked, winking at her. "Hutch, you gotta meet my pal Huggy, we've known each other since before I went to 'Nam."

"He'll be in later." Penny applied a sponge to the mess and plucked a bowl of peanuts from an empty table, shoving it in front of them. Starsky immediately dug in. "I'll tell him, if you're still here eating the snacks without paying for another beer."

"Two more beers," Hutch said obediently. He dug out his billfold and handed over a ten. "And this ought to cover everything, as well as Colby's." Plus a generous tip.

"You're welcome around here any time, blondie!" Penelope pocketed the cash with a saucy grin and wiggled her ample hips walking back to the bar. "Bring your beers right over," she said over her shoulder.

"So back to your new money making venture?" Ken asked, eyeing Starsky. All of a sudden, he looked very embarrassed, running a hand through his short curls with a slight blush on his cheeks.

"Not exactly a new thing," Starsky said warily, eating another handful of peanuts. "I…I been doin' this off and on since I was in high school. At…parties and stuff. Just sorta learned on the job, if you know what I mean." He glanced around the room at the other cops

Not exactly knowing what he meant at all, Ken followed his gaze. The bar was full, but there were only two guys from their class at the academy, Smith and Jacobson. Ken barely knew either man since they rarely took classes together. There were so many new cadets this term that the academy had split them into two groups.

"Will you promise not to tell anybody?" Starsky said sotto voce.

"You're being very mysterious," Ken said carefully, intrigued none-the-less. "I don't want to be involved in…"

"I already told you it ain't illegal!" Starsky crossed his arms indignantly just as Penelope brought over two mugs of beer.

"Don't make that face, Dave," Penelope teased. "Didn't your mother ever tell you it could freeze like that?"

"She use to tell me to wear clean underwear in case I was hit by a car," Starsky retorted. "But I've been hit by a car, and I'm here t'tell you that having on clean shorts didn't help one bit."

"It's so the nurse won't see your bare tush!" Penelope fluttered her fingers at him, going over to greet a new group of off-duty uniformed police walking in the door.

Ken took a sip of beer, waiting Starsky out. He could be patient, he had no where to go. Van was in San Francisco for the week, for her first runway modeling gig for Macy's. He wanted to be proud of his wife, but lately, he was finding himself less and less interested in her materialistic and increasingly glamorized world. He liked spending time with Starsky. Usually, they were a trio with John Colby. Colby was fun to hang around with, but he often monopolized the conversation with raunchy, off-color jokes and snide comments. Hutch was never sure if John was just a jerk or really didn't know how offensive he sounded. He was really glad John wasn't here right now—Starsky seemed uncharacteristically nervous.

"I'maclown," Starsky said very quickly just as cheers erupted from a group of cops watching football on a TV mounted above the bar.

Barely able to hear over the football fans, Hutch leaned forward. "What?" He mentally inserted spaces between the words. "You're a clown? Honestly?"

"Yeah." Starsky grinned this time, a big one full of joy. "It's fun—and it makes a hell of a lot of dough, when I can get a gig. I got this rich little girl's birthday party this weekend. 80 smackers for two hours work. Way more than I can make in two hours in a cab."

"Wait a minute." A thrill ran through him, the seedy bar falling away. They were more alike than Hutch had every dreamed. Excited and intrigued, he'd never thought anyone could make money being a clown. "How did you get into this? Do you paint your face white with a big red nose and huge shoes?"

"Actually, no." Starsky washed down his peanuts with a slug of beer. "Silent movies. I'm more of whatcha call it, an impersonator." Still seated, he pretended to twirl a cane with a little waggle of his hips and shoulders. "I do Chaplin, Buster Keaton or the Keystone cops, sometimes Laurel and Hardy—if I can find somebody to be Hardy. Whatever the client wants."

Hutch laughed in delight.

"Aw, come on," Starsky said, back to embarrassed. "Don't laugh, it's a way to make a living."

"Starsky." Hutch grabbed his arm and hoisted his hand out of the peanuts. "I think this is wonderful! I'd love to see you work."

"Yeah?" Starsky asked, sounding doubtful. He glanced around the room as if still not sure about revealing this in a bar full of cops.

Hutch grinned, pretending he had a tie to flip and a bowler on his head. "Now look at this fine mess you've gotten me into, Stanley."

"You know Laurel and Hardy?" Starsky said in awe, his blue eyes bright. "That's a real good Ollie."

Hutch glowed with the praise. Van had always looked down on his aspirations—and if his mother had ever heard what he'd done in college off campus, she would have fainted away, still clutching a vodka martini in her well manicured hand. "Since you trusted me enough to tell me your…secret, I have a confession to make."

"I ain't much of a priest, but you got my ear." Starsky propped his cheek with his fingers curled over his bottom lip.

"I'm…" In contrast to Starsky's brash, sudden delivery, Hutch found it hard to get the words out. "a mime."

"You mean…?" Starsky widened his eyes and pretended to press against an invisible wall. "White face, little tear drops under your eyes, fighting the wind in a French accent?"

"Exactly." Hutch laughed again, suddenly totally at ease. Starsky made him happy. "I had a girlfriend when I lived in Paris in '65—she had learned at Marcel Marceau's feet and wanted a partner." He flashed back on those days busking on the Champs Elysees for American tourists with Claudine. "I painted my face white and copied whatever she did. It was fun." He stopped, suddenly wistful for that simpler time when all he had to juggle were three balls instead of his dreams versus Van's aspirations of greatness. "But Laurel and Hardy, they're the masters. I think I've seen every movie they ever made."

"Hutch, what are you doing tomorrow morning?" Starsky asked, tossing a peanut at him.

Catching it in midair, Hutch flipped the nut into his mouth with a sense of something special happening. "You need a partner?"

"That little girl will never forget havin' Laurel and Hardy at her birthday party!" Starsky punched the air. "You and me together, ain't nothing that can hold us back."

The End


End file.
